


Twenty Minutes

by orphan_account



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Incest, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25922701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A story about a cake that was tragically murdered.
Relationships: Hikawa Hina & Hikawa Sayo, Hikawa Hina/Hikawa Sayo
Comments: 27
Kudos: 72





	Twenty Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mistaken Identity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24551533) by [tinygaydream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygaydream/pseuds/tinygaydream). 



I love you.

And I know you must love me too, Onee-chan, because I was ruining the balance of the cake we were making with too much milk again. You pressed your teeth into the softness of your lips firmly to keep your cool composure but the corners of your mouth were rebelling against you. My heart did this little flip flop summersault at how the soundless laughter sparkled in your eyes as you turned your face away to hide it from me. This was the third time I'd done this and you were laughing. You must really love me.

I'd memorized all the measurements you had given me by heart the first time, of course - I'm the genius, after all - but an all right cake would just end up being an all wrong cake if you ask me. Done correctly, a cake should take us roughly twenty minutes for preparation and another thirty to fifty to bake, depending on the recipe, right? That means that if I sneak a mistake in here or there it could buy me a whole twenty more minutes with you. I just have to be careful not to push my luck too far. And make sure we end up with a cake at the end. You weren't too impressed with the soup we ended up with the first time, when I'd gotten greedy.

This time though, you were smirking as you scooped just a little more sugar and flour into the dry mix to save us the trouble of starting over. By the looks of things, our one cake was to become one and a half cakes. You must have been paying attention to what I was doing. You looked so pleased as you marked the ingredients you had added to the recipe in order to counter my mischief.

I watched as you gathered up the length of your pale hair. Watched as your slender fingers wrangled the wild, unruly curls and tied them back into a long tail to keep the strands from your face. When your hands took up one of the bowls to start combining the two I took advantage of the opening, reaching around to hook you close against me. I felt you jump when my fingers traced over the arc of the iliac crest. It took every ounce of will to keep those fingers decent and just hold on to you. It took everything to keep from pressing my face into the nape of your exposed neck.

"Hina." You glanced out of our kitchen sanctuary to check the living room. Probably looking for mom.

I settled for resting my head on your shoulder. I watched your hands do their delicate work, pointedly avoiding the glance you shot me as I did. "I'm allowed to hug my sister, right?" Even though I couldn't see it I knew your smile had hardened, pressing into a solid line. Thoughtfulness would turn your expression to impassive stone.

Just as I had begun to wonder a little bit what we were going to do with all of this extra cake we were making mom burst into the kitchen. Again, you flinched.

She dumped a big jumbled heap of papers on the counter before coming into our private baking project. She wedged herself in between us, forcibly separating us, so she could grab a bottle of something boring from the cabinet. "Sayo, do you remember where I-." You already had the stuffed wicker basket hooked in your hand and out for her before she finished her sentence. "Oh," she laughed. "There it is." She then dispensed her kisses, one for me and one for you, before stepping back. "Alright," she said. With a firm grip at the edges of her grey suit she yanked down to make sure it got all nice and straight and clean cut. "How do I look?"

Finger Guns and a major thumbs up from me, of course! I mean, I couldn't remember why she was dressed up or what the basket is for, but I was all for the fancy professional getup. "You look totally bopp'n, mom." It wouldn't be the same without my trademark, would it? "Like you're about to kick some butt and get a promotion!" She beamed back at me.

I don't know if I've ever told you this, but I love the way you focus so intensely on things. The way your graceful brow pulls tight, the way your eyes narrow just a little and you absolutely drink in all the details top to bottom. It's a little intense, really, enough to make my knees go all wiggly woogly.

At the time I could see that mom was doing her best not to shrink under your scrutiny. You reached out and oh-so-carefully pinched at her shoulder. There, between your fingertips, I saw a single thin hair that had fallen loose. "Perfect." We both knew you meant it. It's amazing how not even a single tiny hair the same color as her coat missed your final inspection.

Relief swept across her face. She then regrouped, brandishing a finger at us. "Okay, so you are going to be fine for tonight, right?" I perked up, glancing between you and her with immediate interest. She's leaving? "There's plenty of food in the fridge but I left some money if you want to go out." She's leaving! I turned my eyes to you to see that you were also just a little straighter than before, all attentive.

"Yes." You gave me a look that said you suspected something might go awry. "I think once we finish with the cake we will probably order in." It was playful, teasing (and I had certainly earned your distrust in baking matters) but in that moment I was absolutely not thinking about the cake that I was trying to mess up, or what we might be eating for dinner. 

My mind had already pressed you out of the kitchen. Urgency had my mouth on your mouth, my hands in your clothes, my heart beating against yours. I was feasting, but not on food.

It must have been written all over my face because you suddenly snapped your attention back to mom. Your cheeks were burning and just knowing your thoughts were the same as my thoughts sent a zing to my fingertips. "We'll be fine." You said. "Don't worry. Just focus on your meeting."

"Okay," she said again and scooped the basket back up into her arms. Even I could tell she was a tiny bit nervous. "You two be good, okay?"

I reached out to you and threaded our fingers together, reforming the broken tether that joined us. You met my gaze and I gave you my most sparkling, beamingest smile before turning it on mom. She was still waiting for a reply. "When are we ever not good?" I asked.

And she looked at us, then, and it was that wet-eyed, hot-faced, proud and so full of love look. The kind that makes your heart squeeze a little because you know your mom absolutely adores you and she thinks maybe she did something right because we get along so well and we're so well behaved. "I'll leave her in your care, Sayo." It was thick with all that feeling. "Be sure to go to bed on time. Tonight's a school night."

"Of course." Your voice was thick, too.

When mom shut the door I wasted absolutely no time. "All to ourselves." I murmured into your ear.

"Wait, Hina." You spoke softly. Warmth touched your cheeks but your free hand was urging me back.

"A whole big old house," I started picking at the buttons of your shirt. "And you don't have to worry about all the noise you're gonna make." I am buzzing, practically coming loose from all the energy that's just hoppin' all the way through me.

"Hina," you were insistent, pushing. "Hina wait." You almost jerked free of my hands when my lips brushed yours.

"What's wrong?" That got me worried. You glared at me and it sent a shock right to my toes.

Just then the door swung open again. Mom. She scooped up all the papers she'd left on the counter. The ones that hadn't escaped your notice. The ones that had entirely escaped mine. "Oops, almost forgot these." She paused at the door and gave us a funny look. "You two okay?"

You were squeezing my hand so tightly I thought my fingers were going to pop right off and bounce away. "Hina added too much milk to the mix again. She did it on purpose." 

YOU KNEW?

Mom laughed at that, sudden but not surprised. "She does it because she wants to spend more time with you, you know." SHE KNEW! My mouth was just hanging open and I looked between you both with mock-offense. "Don't stay up too late!" She recalled just before she slipped back out the door.

This time I waited. Waited until we both heard the car start. Until we saw her go.

I gave your hand a little squeeze and chuckled under my breath as you sighed. We spoke at the same time.

"You should have listened," you said firmly.

"I know," I said.

I took a chance and peered over at you. The glare you'd turned on me only moments before had stung and I was worried you might do it again. But you had a hand covering your mouth, your brows pinched so tight I thought your eyebrows were considering merging on your face. That was not the super amazing thinking look. That was the super not-okay thinking look. The one that says you're going somewhere deep and far away and you're about to leave me behind. The one that says you're strangling yourself from the inside. It was new to me, then. A look I had only seen once or twice before, then.

"Hey." You were falling and I was scrambling to catch you. "Hey, Sayo. It's okay. It's okay." By now I knew the rules. I knew that if I reminded you of the other bond that connected us it would only make things worse. The thing between us that makes the most beautiful thing in all the world the ugliest, grossest thing people who don't know us could possibly imagine. I cupped your face, trying to get you to look at me and not that other place you were fleeing too.

I couldn't lose you. I wouldn't lose you.

"What are we doing." The rising panic was so sharp and clear in your eyes it could cut. I could feel myself bleeding. "Hina, what are we doing."

"I love you." I don't know what it is. I know every word in the dictionary. I've memorized every single one of the words and I can repeat to you their meanings verbatim. I still can't say the right thing. No matter what I try it all comes out weak, and lame, and you find some loophole, some crack somewhere in the reasoning. It's irrational. It's amoral. It's-

"This is just some sex thing," your breath was coming in sharp, quick gasps as you jerked back. Those aren't your words. Whose words are they? I know your feelings, I see it in your eyes every day. "It's wrong, isn't it? It's so wrong, Hina, we can't be doing this. We can't keep doing this. What if she had seen us?"

"I love you." I said again, gripping you tighter. "I love you, Sayo."

"You're my younger sister, Hina!" Your voice was shrill. You were still quiet but in my ears, whooshing in the thudding fear beating in my chest, it sounded like the booming of a thunderstorm. "My twin younger sister!" The hand that covered your mouth frantically pressed to the corner of your eye where your tears were spilling. Your breathing hiccuped in your throat. "How could I do this?" You always blamed yourself. I tried reminding you that I had started it, once. It had surprised us both but I had absolutely started it. That didn't matter to you. You were supposed to be the one in charge. Mom had left me in your care. 

Oh no. I get it now. Was that what had started it this time?

"Sayo." I was pleading with you as best as I could. "Sayo I love you." They're the only words that mean anything.

"No!" You tried to escape me. You jerked and thrashed against my desperate clinging. Your beautiful, stoic face had twisted into terror and rage and I was all your nightmares made real. "Let me go!"

"I love you." I would never kiss your lips now, no matter how much I wanted to, but I kissed the corner of your shining, determined eyes. I kissed your hot wet cheeks. I kissed your forehead, the painful pinch in your brows. When you finally wrenched your hands from mine and covered your face, trying to hide as the sobs got stronger, I kissed your long delicate fingers, the ones that are so precise and so, so deliberate. I kissed your knuckles. I kissed the backs of your hands. "I love you, Sayo." I held you against me, firm and as strong as I could be. "I love you."

You answered in a broken gasp between frantic, wrenching breaths. You were crying and you didn't want me to see. Your nails digging into your face as you tried to bury it all deeper, tried to hide. "This is so wrong."

I don't honestly really remember when it happened but eventually we were on the ground in the far corner of the kitchen. You were half in my lap, exhausted and laying against me as I stroked your long hair, and it had gotten dark a while ago. The sun had sunk deep over the horizon and neither of us had gotten up the energy to turn on the lights.

"Hey, Onee-chan." I was hoarse even to my own ears. "We should move to America."

Your fingers fisted in my shirt. "We're not moving away."

"It's legal there. We could get married." I told you.

"Hina," you buried your face into my shirt. It was wet and cold where you weren't touching. "We're sisters."

"I'll change my name."

"We still look like sisters."

"I'll wear a disguise. Dye my hair and wear contacts. I'm getting pretty good at it." You huffed a little laugh. We both knew why. Sneaking into your concerts so that I could see you play. I still did it sometimes, and by the way you scanned the crowds, hunting, I think you knew.

It was a minute before you answered that one. "We would have to quit music. I would have to leave Roselia and you couldn't be an idol anymore."

"I only did it so I could be closer to you." It's true. It was always true.

"We would have to leave everyone behind. We would have to leave mom behind."

In that moment I'm not sure I minded. I think in that moment I had hardened myself against everyone. If they didn't want me to be happy then I didn't want them in my life anyway.

I know that's not how it works. I know they all care about us. But I didn't want to think about what it would mean otherwise.

"We should watch that movie tonight." So I changed the subject.

"Which one?"

"The one about the dog. The one that keeps coming back to life."

You pushed yourself up to look me in the eye. "You want to watch a movie about dogs that die over and over again right now?"

I laughed a little bit and it hurt because my heart hurt. You had this completely dumbfounded look on your face and your lips were pressed into such a firm line. I wanted to kiss them soft again. "Yeah, but he comes back to life. It's okay."

"Hina, the dog dies." You were pleading your case and it was honestly a pretty compelling one. The dog does in fact die.

"Yeah, but he wants to see his most important person again. He keeps coming back."

I think I got my way just because you didn't want to argue anymore.

In a few minutes I had you in my arms again. You were nestled up against me and I had a bag of microwave popcorn wedged in the couch cushions next to us. We still hadn't turned on the lights but that worked out for us now, because the screen was bright and I was pretending there's nothing outside of you against me, and the movie, and popcorn escaping out of handfuls to fall wastefully onto the floor. I pouted every time I lost one and you smiled sorely, choosing to pick escapees from my shirt instead of adding to the mess.

Okay, so maybe a movie about a dog dying was a pretty bad idea. Especially when you love dogs so much. No one else knows this but you're pretty emotional when you feel safe enough to be yourself. Before I knew it you were crying on me again and I was trying to kiss your sore face as you shook me angrily for getting you into this.

Right before the movie ended mom came home. We both jumped when the door opened but neither of us moved. 

You had told me once that if we made a big deal about it other people would, too, and you were right. Whenever I flung myself away from you, trying my hardest not to be suspicious, everyone pointed it out and asked why I was being so weird. So we sat there, you cuddled against me and me holding you tightly. I offered mom some popcorn. Everything was all normal and she smiled.

"I told you to go to bed on time," she said, exhaustion evident in her eyes.

I was grateful it was dark and she couldn't see how much both of us had been crying.

"It's almost over," you said softly, trying to hide how thick and sore your voice had gotten. "Can we finish it?"

She sighed and sat next to us on the couch.

The dog found his best friend at the end. You were sniffling. Even in the dark I could see you bite your lip, struggling to keep the tears at bay. I couldn't kiss you anymore and I desperately wanted to. I wanted to kiss every hurt, every bruise. There was still so much kissing I really should have been doing if I wanted to ease the pain we were still hanging on to from earlier. I looked at mom in the dark, watching the last of the movie. I didn't resent her, not really, but every inch of me wanted her to leave. What I wouldn't have given for just a few more hours of privacy.

The movie was over, the curtain was drawn, the popcorn was cleaned up off the floor and you had gone first up the stairs to your room.

"Is she ok?" Mom had asked as we tidied up the couch.

My eyes fell on the bowls we had left sitting on the counter in the kitchen. "I ruined the cake again." It wasn't exactly a lie. Really, though, we hadn't even finished it. I'd almost forgotten it was there.

Mom had frowned at me. I don't think she believed me. I'm not a liar by any means but I guess she must have picked up on something when you excused yourself and left us. Something a little deeper than too much milk in the cake batter. "Are you fighting?"

"No," not exactly. "She's really stressed out." Not a lie. "It'll be okay." I grinned as bright as I could muster, polishing it until it was shiny. "She's got me, right?"

That seemed to be enough to satisfy her. At least for now.

I didn't want to go to my room so I went to yours. I wanted to just go in like I owned the place, like I usually do, but I knew right now wasn't a good time for that. I wanted to be close to you. I needed to be close to you. I knocked.

It was a minute before you answered. I think you must have been in there thinking about whether or not you were going to make me stay outside. You are always a lot more private about everything than I am. It really wasn't until we started really being us that you let me in.

You opened the door. You took my hand. You lead me inside.

"I want to sleep with you tonight." I said as you shut the door behind us.

"I know." You said. "I know." You said again. I don't know what that meant for you and for a moment I was scared that maybe what had happened earlier wasn't over. That we were going to do it here again. You sat down on the bed and pulled me with you. "I'm sorry, Hina."

I wriggled out of my pants and my socks before scooting into bed beside you. I should have gone to my room first and grabbed a nightgown but I was thinking of you first. I always do. "Why are you sorry?"

You waited a long time before you answered, busying yourself with pulling the blankets up and over us. "About tonight. I was... online again. Looking, you know."

"Those people don't know us." I squeezed your hand. I kissed your knuckles. I kissed your palm and nuzzled against it. I knew I couldn't soothe what was burning in your eyes but I could try. "They don't know anything." Other people's opinions had always meant more to you than they ever meant to me. You always worry a lot more than I do. You always want to know that you're doing it the right way. That you're doing it correctly. Perfectly. Even love.

"I just- if there are other people like us... I just want to find someone who understands." Your fingertips trace over my cheek before following down along my jaw. "I just want to know we're not wrong."

"We're not wrong, Onee-chan." I murmur softly. "It's not even something we could do anything about. It's not something we can control."

"But what if it is? What if it really is? What if we can stop? What if we have to stop?" I watched you while you said this. I watched the heat bring tears to your eyes. I watched the fear start to pull you farther from me.

My grip on your hand tightened. "I can't. Even if I could, I wouldn't."

"Why not?" I don't know why your genuine confusion hurts me as much as it does.

"Because I love you. If we stopped this I would still love you. I would just be lonely and it would hurt more because I would have to pretend things are ok when they're not."

I could tell you realized how much what you had said stung. You wouldn't meet my eyes. "So what happened?" I asked more to keep you with me than to keep the conversation going. I touched your face. I tried to brush away the tears.

"There was a place where people were talking about situations like ours." Your brows furrowed. "It wasn't exactly the same. A lot of the people there were just telling stories."

"What kind of stories?" I smoothed your bangs out of your face. At least, I tried to. They don't really listen when I try to tell them to do anything.

You shook your head and I knew you were uncomfortable. "Mostly about sex. How 'much better' it is to have sex with," you hesitated, "a person you're related to."

"It is pretty great." I was trying to be funny but you clearly didn't like the joke. You grabbed the pillow and tried to hit me with it. We wrestled for a minute, until the stuffing had started popping out the sides, until I was laughing and you had a little smile on your face.

But the smile didn't last very long. "It wasn't like us, Hina. It was like they hardly cared about each other. All they could talk about was their..." You waved your hands about, trying to illustrate your point without actually saying it. "Arousal. How obsessed they were with the other person sexually."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, of course, it matters." You were so firm, so unmoving. "If all there is to this is... ravenous sex than what sort of people are we?"

I don't know why that hurt me as much as it did. It hurt me, and I knew it was hurting you, too. "I want to have sex with you. I think about it all the time. Does that make me the same as them?"

You struggled to answer. "No, of course not."

"Because I know girls at school who just talk about sex with guys all the time and that's totally okay." I was trying not to get mad but it just boiled over. "It's totally okay to be a lust-driven weirdo, so long as you picked the right person, right?"

"Hina, that's not how I meant that."

I didn't ask you what you meant because I knew. We're at the bottom of the totem pole, right? Gotta find something to stand on. Anything to stand on. You had to be right. "So what happened?"

"What happened?"

"With the group online?" I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose, trying to get the anger out. "You were upset because of something someone said?"

"They were removed by the platform they were on." Your fingers knotted in the pillow between us. "Banned for promoting breaking the law in the western country the website is based in."

Maybe I was being a little judgemental, too, but as I scootched a little closer to you to comfort you, the first thing that came to mind wasn't very kind. "Were there parents and kids there?" I wrapped my arms around you and you pushed the pillow out of the way so you could meet me there. "Like, young kids and stuff?"

You nodded. "A father. He's attracted to his stepdaughter."

"That's probably why." I hoped. "With kids it's different."

"Is it?" The sound of your voice shattered my heart into a million pieces. It hurt so much. "Is it really different?"

"Yes." I hoped. Maybe I was looking for something to stand on, too.

That night I struggled to fall asleep. Holding you close, I thought about the dog who kept dying until he was with his best friend again. I thought about what it would be like if I lost you. How many times would I have to die until we could be together? The dog went through several lifetimes without his friend before they found each other but I don't think I could stand the thought of even one life without you. One whole life. It's no longer about cakes and trying to steal twenty more minutes, it's the thought of having to wait a whole lifetime, several whole lifetimes, to see you again. I think the thought alone might kill me.

If we did, though, and we did meet again, what would that be like? Would it be exactly the same? Would we still be sisters? Or would we be separated by some other great distance? Like, maybe I'd be a dog in that future. I'd have only a short time with you. I wouldn't be able to tell you how much I love you. I would get to kiss you all the time, though, and it wouldn't be weird. Well, maybe it would be a little weird.

When I drifted off to sleep, thinking about you and thinking about the dog, I think I dreamed that we found each other again.

In my dream I was a man. We were doing it right this time. Boy and girl. Man and woman. Husband and wife. I was not your brother, either, and no one is there to tell me that the love I have for you is wrong, or gross, or ugly. When we are married everyone is happy for us. What we share is celebrated. Mother is there and she is looking at us, together, so full of pride and love. The same look she gives us when we are her good daughters who don't secretly meet when no one is watching. When we are filthy under clean sheets, not because our bodies are unclean but because our hearts are.

When we are married all of our friends are there. They see us and they are so happy for us. I watch you in your shimmering gown, watching the way it hugs your frame just so, and Aya pats me on the back. I am a good man who fell in love with a beautiful woman. I am a good man who admires a beautiful woman. I am a good man.

We have children, then. Many many children. Half of them are stern and focused and the other half are wild brainiacs. With some, it's like cards and they pull little bits of pieces from both of us and it's all a random mishmash. I am a good father to these children. I love them as much as I love you.

Maybe the children are like us in a way. I feel sometimes like we were once a single person and somewhere along the way we got split in two, you know? That's why we're so perfectly different from each other. I might have all the brains but you've got the wisdom to use them. I have all the talent but you have the determination and tenacity. You definitely got all the good looks but I'm going to have to say I took the charm. Maybe that's how we ended up the way we are. Together we are whole where separated we'd only be lopsided without one arm and one leg to keep us standing.

So I was dreaming about loving you, and loving us, when I woke up with your hand in my hair. You were sitting over me, the morning light seeping in through the window, and you were stroking my hair.

"Good morning." I murmured into the pillow.

You smiled at me. There are moments when you are so beautiful I can hardly stand it. When how much I love you just makes my heart hurt and my mouth go dry. You were bathed in the golden morning light peeking in from the window. It's barest touch left a radiant glow that combed through the tender waves in your hair and softened the carefully etched lines of your face. I was at a loss. "Good morning," you replied. "It's time to get up. You need to get ready." What you didn't say was that I needed to sneak down the hall to my own room so mom didn't know I was here. I wanted to tell you that I think she knows anyway and remind you that  
so long as we don't make it weird no one will suspect us. I wanted to say a lot of things.

You stood up and started to get ready. I knew you were worried about the test you would be taking the next day. You probably wanted to get some studying done so that you wouldn't be cramming tonight, but we both knew you would be cramming anyway. You always did.

I pulled on my pants and my socks. "We should stop at the cafe on our way to school and get something for breakfast." It isn't only in baking that I look for an extra twenty minutes to spend with you.

You shook your head. "Hina, we don't have that much time. It would make us late."

"We can be late once in a while."

You, my love, my sister, and the head of the disciplinary committee, all turned to look at me with a stern eye. "We cannot be late for class." It softened when I pouted.

"What if we run?"

"You will have to run very fast." You said.

I took your hands in mine. I also took a chance and kissed your cheek while I could. "Faster than a speeding bullet."

"Alright." You were smiling but something about it seemed a little sad. "If we're going to make it you only have half an hour to get ready."

I started to run out of the room but the sadness I had seen made me pause at the door. "I love you, Onee-chan," I said.

"So you keep reminding me." Your brows quirked then, the sadness sharing space with a little playful teasing. It never failed to make you blush, though.

"Well, I do love you," I said. "I just don't want you to forget."

So much was said in the tightness of your brows. "I never will."

When you say this I am thinking about the dog. I am thinking about the lifetimes I will have to wait to see you when this slips through my fingers. I am thinking about how I will steal another twenty minutes for the chance to say 'I love you' again.

**Author's Note:**

> I know onee-chan is kind of a faux pas in the anime fic community but “sis” just... doesn’t feel right, ok?
> 
> The formatting for this one is largely inspired by a much better written and more entertaining work of fiction by @tinygaydream that you are welcome to palette cleanse with now that you are free of whatever this ended up being.
> 
> Hina’s voice did not come naturally to me at all and I’m going to be over here beating myself up over it for the next few days. I just felt like... from Sayo’s perspective it would have been too dark and worse than a touch melancholy. I tried? ::wince::  
> I’m not a writer and I full on bit off more than I can chew, is what I’m saying.
> 
> Edit: Refined a few of the last paragraphs because they felt weak. :x Nothing major was affected.


End file.
